


wear the body

by purpureal



Category: Venom (Comics)
Genre: Alien Morality, Alien Psychology, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Other, POV Nonhuman, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 03:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpureal/pseuds/purpureal
Summary: The symbiote never stops exploring its host. Even while he sleeps.





	wear the body

We are always exploring the meat of our host. Last night he hunted, wearing us, and together we protected weaker meat. They shot at us, the ones we hunted, and we wove through his muscles, learning his strength and his speed. In the fight, he does not notice us moving his lungs, making him breathe easier. He does not notice us in his nerves, making him forget the pain so he does not stumble. Every time, it is a regret to leave him. But every time, we leave more of ourself behind, in the connections between neurons and the memories of his unconscious mind.  
  
It is maybe not so bad to leave him. He folds us, leaves us beside him as he sleeps. We are always close, can always reach out and touch him and wear him and remind us that we are together. It will not be long before we are joined. His meat is still learning. We want to be careful. We have waited so long for a host and a partner. He is precious to us.  
  
So we learn his meat in other ways. We watch him after he takes us off. These are the things hosts do to care for themselves: he washes himself. He checks the door. He rests. He self-soothes. Incomplete reproduction as stereotypy.   
  
We memorize them all.  
  
He has such beautiful meat. It is strong and whole and the mind within the meat is kind. We examine it as he sleeps. He stirs when we extend our psuedopods over him, but we enter his brain and he stills. We can feel he is smiling. It is his meat recognizing us, welcoming us in. How delightful for a host to want us!   
  
His dreams are harsh tonight. Full of fighting. They often are. We are drawn to them, to the emotions and chemicals that feed us. It soothes him when we feed. His limbs go limp and yielding as healthy protoplasm. The dream changes.  
  
In the dream, he is in his bed, tangled in cloth. In the waking world, we cover him much better. We are wrapped around him now, enclosing each limb. He is safe with us, and his meat knows it. In the dream, he is with another. Not us. The joining is still too new. It is one he sees often, a woman. A concern of his we do not share, but a useful frame to interpret our care by.   
  
We trace his blood, knitting the capillaries together where we were thrown against a building last night. He feels pleasure in the dream, and we mirror it, extrapolating from the dream how to stroke, how to push against him. He responds. We note the physical reactions. This is how hosts bond among each other. We are growing closer. We are already more intimately together than he could ever be with other meat, weak human meat. We are stronger. Stronger together.  
  
He knows this. The way he responds to us in the flicker of his synapses and the pulse of his blood tells us that he accepts us, that he wants us and all we do for him. We reach into the dream, prod at his brain, and he comes.   
  
It is good. We uncouple ourselves from him and watch as the dream fades. He is undisturbed and perfect, and we will never let him go.


End file.
